Interlude | Fall Out Boy AU

Chapter 1 . You Take That Jump And You Don't Feel The Fall

The soft light from a variety of lamps smoothly scattered the shadows on Kara's face. No sharp contrast, only the yellowness reflected in the eyes. The room was incredibly warm, but not stuffy, and only people passing behind disturbed the calm and serenity with their movements. Someone softly sang various melodies. It seemed that all thoughts disappeared, lost anxiety, fear, tension.

Kara sat in front of the mirror in a comfortable chair, from which she didn't want to get up, and looked at her reflection - it changed after the situation. Painful pallor, bruises under eyes disappeared. On the contrary, the luminous shadows shone on the eyelids, the lips had the color of a luxurious rose, and the hair was gathered into a neat hairstyle with a few loose strands; on the head was a bezel of small purple flowers, strikingly reminiscent of the real ones.

The appearance so fascinated the girl that she saw only herself in the mirror, not even trying to see the rest of the people, as if they were out of focus.

"Tunnel vision..." she remembered, saying the phrase out loud.

Immediately the lowing behind her stopped and there was a sound, as if someone ran a hand over all the strings of the guitar, starting with the sixth and ending with the first, the thinnest of them. From the shoulder of Kara slipped someone's sleeve of light-colored jeans , covered with large thermal prints with butterflies ; the hand of the stranger began to look for something around the table by the mirror. Kara didn't leave the idea that she actually knows who this man is. Who are all these people.

Kara turned around with a disgruntled look and folded her arms across her chest.

"You'd probably find it unpleasant if I'd been rummaging through your stuff, Pete," she said, knitting her brows jokingly. The man didn't pay attention to her, only slightly moved away to the right and continued the search.

"If it helped find my guitar pick, I would just be glad that you rummage through my stuff," Pete replied. "Actually, I'm an open book. Everyone ever rummaged through my stuff".

"Well" the girl thought  "You write songs and introduce your lyric hero to the whole audience, the whole world. It is the same as opening a soul to people. Of course, after such, things go to the background".

"Much easier when your own thoughts are voiced by someone else" Pete admitted, "I'm not a lead singer."

"Nevertheless ... Well, how did you manage to lose the pick? Is it really impossible to take another one or two from the scene? There are always at least five of them on the microphone stand, it's like a cornucopia for musicians".

"When I checked last time, the number of tickets sold was about nineteen thousand," he boasted, "If I just step on the stage ahead of time, just to pick up the pick, it will stir up fan panic. They will squeal!"

"Seems like you don't like it at all," said the girl slyly, and Wentz grinned at her slyly too. Kara leaned back in her chair and exhaled relaxed "Will I really be with you all on the same stage, singing in front of nineteen thousand people?"

"Actually," Pete repeated his favorite phrase, "Nineteen thousand and two hundred and fifty-seven people. Now tell me how ready are you to perform?"

Behind her, someone laughed, and the laughter swept across the room, literally warming it. In the reflection of the mirror, a tall figure of Joe appeared, heading toward them.

"On a scale from "I Know the Songs as Well as Pete Wentz, who wrote the same songs", to "And what do we perform today"?" Troman wittily remarked, spreading his hand over the once-long and lush hair that now they were only trimmed neatly.

Kara opened her mouth, as if she was about to yawn, but she did not yawn.

"And... and what do we perform today?"